The Protector
by Henry Vyne
Summary: Arthur has been reincarnated into modern times. He is an elementary school teacher and takes his class on a school trip to a museum to look at paintings from the Middle Ages. There he stumbles across a painting of Merlin.


**I don't own Merlin. Rights go to BBC. The icon for the story is meant to be the portrait.  
**

**Words count: 1,218. Not including author's notes.**

* * *

Arthur led a group of fourth graders through a museum for a school project. He had been teaching elementary school for several years now and was still enjoying it immensely. He adored children, well at least the nice ones. He had met a few bad eggs in his lifetime.

This year he moved up to teaching fourth graders instead of his usual class of second graders. He wasn't enjoying it as much as he had with the younger children, but he kept getting surprised at how much teaching, especially teaching little children, was a learning job.

This year he was teaching about the Middle Ages, a subject which he had always enjoyed in his youth. Secretly, even though he was in his late twenties by now, he still loved that time period. He was very thrilled about teaching his favourite things. Knights and jousting and such had always enthralled him. So there he was, at a museum, leading a school trip to learn more about Medieval art.

He had a group of about twenty five children trailing behind him, some of the more attentive ones scribbling notes and observations down in a notebook. The were about halfway through the Medieval section, and when they were finished with that, they were going to move onto more modern art and compare the two different eras.

Arthur looked behind him and started to count his children, making sure that there weren't any missing. Arthur quietly swore under his breath, making sure that none of the children heard him, when he saw that two of them were gone. He scanned around the room in search of them, and soon found them at the opposite side of the the room, staring in awe at a painting. Arthur sighed in relief and began to direst his students to the other two. This time, he brought up the rear of the group, keenly watching and making sure that no more of his pupils were wandering off.

"What were you two doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!" Arthur inquired once the group had finally reached the two separated children. Their names were Alex and Cameron. Arthur knelt down and looked them over, as if searching for an injury of some sort. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, we just-" Alex started to reply, but Arthur interrupted.

"Well then, what were you doing? I told you not to stray from the group!"

"We know, but we saw the painting!" Cameron exclaimed exclaimed excitedly while pointing to a large painting that was hung up in front of them on the wall. Arthur stood up and looked at the painting that such a fuss was being made over. When he finally saw it he was stunned. He felt like his heart plummeted into his stomach and stopped beating all at once. Then he felt like his heart was beating so fast that it would burst out of his chest.

"It's just like your drawings." One of the children remarked in obvious awe.

It was true. It did look like Arthur's drawings.

For as long as he could remember, Arthur had been drawing people. There were no names to go with them. Just faces and figures. As if distant memories from a dream that was dreamt long ago, dancing throughout his mind. There were many different people that he drew. A woman with dark skin and long, wavy hair. She was usually wearing majestic and royal looking clothes, but sometimes, she had short and frizzy hair, and wore much simpler clothing.

There were others, too. A kingly looking and elderly fellow with a scar across his forehead. Sometimes he look soft and compassionate, but most times he looked very cold and stoic. There was a beautiful woman with long dark hair and and sharp green eyes, sometimes looking very regal, and other times looking positively wretched, with tangled and knotted hair and a black lace dress.

Sometimes, Arthur drew more than one person in on picture. Several times there were men dressed in chain mail, armour, and long, flowing, red capes with a golden dragon on the side.

But the person that appeared most in Arthur's drawings, was one man. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, but there was a sense of knowledge and experience practically radiating off of him. He was just one solitary, young man, who seemed so wise and...old. Other times though, he looked just plain goofy with an idiotic and friendly grin plastered onto his face, making Arthur beam with happiness when he saw it.

Arthur had learnt from a young age to always carry a sketch book around with him. He hadn't broken the habit once he became an adult and started university and the moved onto teaching. By the time that he had reached the age that he is when this story takes place, he had filled out scores of drawing pads. He had designated a portfolio for each person, and by the time he had reached his adult years, he was extraordinarily good in drawing these faces. He could even paint them, but he liked them better done with a pencil.

Around the beginning of the school year, his students saw him drawing a picture of the woman with the wild hair and black lace dress and they insisted that he show them the rest of the sketches. That's how Cameron and Alex recognized the painting of a mystical young man, wearing a red neckerchief and a blue shirt, looking forwards with dazzling blue eyes, with a faint but clearly visible glimmer of gold in them.

A woman seemed to notice Arthur's bewilderment and fascination in the portrait and walked closer to him.

"Interesting piece, innit?" She commented. Arthur ignored her as he kept staring at it with a strong sense of nostalgia and familiarity.

"It's called 'The Protector'" She added.

This caught Arthur's attention. He tore his gaze away from the painting and and looked to the woman. She took this as a sign to continue and kept on speaking.

"It's unknown who painted it, but it's a mystery as to how he did it." She pointed to the painting. "If you look closely you'll see that there are no brush stroke marks. It's as if it was made by magic." She mumbled the last part and looked again to Arthur. She blushed as if she were embarrassed by such a childish comment about magic, but Arthur didn't pay any attention as he looked back to the painting, mesmerized by its beauty and elegance. The woman walked away, leaving Arthur with his forgotten children.

Arthur knew that face. He knew that he knew it. He knew that familiar grin, that was just beginning to dance around the figure's lips. He knew those bright blue eyes with the gold swimming around in them. He knew this man, better than anyone.

"Arthur," A voice called from behind him. It was barely above a whisper, but oh so recognizable.

Arthur closed his eyes as silent tears began to flood from them and stream down his cheeks until the rolled swiftly off of his face.

He knew that voice.

He turned around slowly and only opened his eyes when he was facing who he knew so well.

"Merlin."

* * *

**Please leave a comment telling me what you thought! Any tips and constructive criticism are welcome.**


End file.
